


Melodies and Muscles

by ghostofsmilespassed



Category: Fall Out Boy, Peterick - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Pining, Teacher AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:30:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9668729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofsmilespassed/pseuds/ghostofsmilespassed
Summary: Your typical trashy Teacher AU: Pete is a Coach and Patrick is a band director.(if you want to picture eras; Pete is post hiatus, Patrick is Pre-hiatus. let me live people)Fluff and pining and hopefully humor.





	1. Operation Don't Stare At The Hot Soccer Coach

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anne Danny Patrick Jen and Lauren - thanks for helping/putting up with me. Love you.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Anne+Danny+Patrick+Jen+and+Lauren+-+thanks+for+helping%2Fputting+up+with+me.+Love+you.).



> This was supposed to be a one shot on my tumblr but it got kinda long and i figured why not

Patrick would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. This was his first day working at the new highschool, his first day officially on the job. Being a band director wasn't bad. Even in his first class it was easy to tell who was actually committed to the music and who wasn't really. He treasured his break, though. Planning periods were an utter and total blessing; Patrick figured if he hurried he could swing by the break room and get a snack before getting back on his lesson plans. 

He hummed to himself as he fixed a drink and grabbed a bag of chips from the vending machine. He stopped humming when another coworker stepped in. The guy was a little taller than Patrick, with short bleach blonde hair and a smile much too big. He somehow made the bright red gym shorts he was wearing look good, and Patrick was more than a little impressed with his physique. The guy's eyes met Patrick's and his smile got wider, crinckling up the corners of his eyes.

Patrick turned away, face turning a light pink as he hurriedly grabbed his chips. "Hey," mysterious much-too-hot-coworker called, and Patrick turned, inwardly cursing ," you're the new band teacher, right?" Patrick nodded shyly, trying to calm himself so that he could shake his hand. "I'm Pete, the gym teacher." His eyes were bright. 

"Patrick," he said politely, congratulating himself on how close to normal that sounded. Pete pulled away, megawatt grin still on his face. "I look forward to seeing you around, 'Trick." He said easily, turning away from Patrick to get something from the snack machine. 

"You too," Patrick called out faintly, walking out of the door as quickly as he could. As soon as he was safely back in his office he allowed himself a moment to hyperventilate. He cursed his awkwardness, his inability to react to situations normally. But mostly he was blown away by how fucking attractive the gym teacher was. It was ridiculously unfair; not only did he have to work with him, but the band's practice field was right across from the sports' practice field.

It went fine for the first few weeks. Patrick avoided sexy-gym-teacher-Pete as best as he could, going so far as to hide in a bathroom at one point so that he wouldn't have to say hi to him. But then marching band practice began. Patrick stayed every day from 3 to 6, instructing and helping his band nerds learn the movements.

One day, during one of their water breaks, Patrick felt a strong, calloused hand squeeze his shoulder. Cursing as he turned, Patrick was met with smiling brown eyes. Pete was grinning hugely, pulling his hand away to put them casually in his pockets. "Just wanted to say hey neighbor". Patrick snorted.

"Hi?" Pete's grin somehow got wider. "I also wanted to tell you I'm excited for the game Friday. We've been watching you guys practice, I bet half time show is gonna be rad." Patrick blushed at the sudden praise. 

"Th-thanks.." The coach's smile seemed to soften. "I also wanted to tell you there's more water coolers by the gym. I wouldn't want you or the kids getting heatstroke, it's kinda warm today." Patrick nodded his thanks, surprised at the kindness. Not that Pete didn't seem nice, but.. He was going out of his way to be friendly and helpful despite not needing to. Being the new guy, Patrick appreciated it greatly. 

Pete waved his goodbye before jogging off, shouting at his team. Patrick tried to convince himself that him staying there for another moment was just him catching his breath before marching again, and not about how Pete's ass looked in basketball shorts. 

\- 

Patrick was more than a little nervous for the first game of the season. He was a ball of nerves, bouncing around, shouting orders at students and helping everyone get ready. They seated themselves in the bleachers early, watching as the football players also got ready. Patrick couldn't help the flush over his face when Pete caught his eye and waved excitedly, his ridiculous grin visible from across the field. A few students catcalled, but Patrick chose to ignore them. 

Brendon, one of the drummers, smirked at him as he walked past. "So, Mr.Stump, I didn't know you liked sports." Patrick rolled his eyes, giving the teenager a pointed look. Brendon raised his arms defensively, smirk still in place.

"Look I don't blame you, if it wasn't illegal I'd be after him too. But you go man, get you a piecea dat a-" 

Patrick fumed, "Urie if you finish that statement I promise that you won't play for at least 5 more games!" Brendon yelped, immediately turning back to his drums. Despite his embarrassment, Patrick had to admit it was kind of funny. He didn't blame Brendon, either. 

The game went well. Towards time for the halftime show, Patrick lined his band up at the entrance, directing from a spot by a fence. He turned and looked at the score board; it was only a minute till half time. The director took a deep breath, managing an encouraging smile for his band. Many of them smiled back, some shouting their excitement before being settled by their section leaders. Patrick nodded to himself, listening to the announcer.

Suddenly there were a strong, sweaty pair of arms around him, and a warm body pressed against his back. "You're gonna do great 'Trick!" Pete shouted, breath hot against his neck ,"Goodluck nerds!" He shouted as he pulled away, giving his megawatt grin to the band. There was a chorus of laughter and smiles, and Patrick could feel the nervousness lessen. 

"Thank you," he said softly, his face flushing when Pete turned and winked at him. The performance went more smoothly than he could've imagined. For their first time on the field the kids did great; mostly in time and on beat, and hardly anyone stumbled. Patrick couldn't be more proud as they exited the field, shouting his excitement. 

The smile never left Patrick's face. He chatted animatedly with the band kids and their parents, hummed to himself as he packed up the instruments, and full on sang as soon as the last student left. Patrick was glowing, or at least that's what it felt like. He was warm and giddy and excited, and he sang snippets of songs just as upbeat as he was. He turned and danced around the band room, organizing and fixing the mess that had been created.

His smile only fell when he turned again and noticed a figure at the door. As soon as he stopped there was clapping, and the person stepped forward. "Holy fuck Trick that was great!!" Pete's smile now was the one that Patrick loved, the one that made his eyes crinkle. 

Patrick blinked, stammering in embarrassment. Pete was, of fucking course, shirtless, and Patrick had a feeling that being that attractive shouldn’t be legal. 

Pete wasn’t ripped, but he wasn’t unfit either. His stomach was fairly toned, his arms and chest littered with darkly colored tattoos. Patrick’s eyes were mostly drawn to the crown of thorns across his collar and the ugly heart-bat-thing just below his belly. 

The band director swallowed hard, trying to regain composure. 

“Weren’t you supposed to leave already?” He asked, voice cracking slightly. Wincing, Patrick went on. “N-not that you have to leave or a-anything I just.. I thought I’d be the only one staying late.” 

Pete had a gentle smile on his face, walking casually around the band room as he spoke, never meeting Patrick’s eye. 

“Nah, I usually stay after to clean things up. Return stuff to the gym, help people close up the concessions and pick up the bleachers.” Pete shrugged, finally turning on his heel to face him. “I’m not ever really in a rush to get home, so.” 

Patrick nodded, understandingly. The most he had to go home to were Scrubs reruns and his vinyls, writing music on the weekends. 

“What about you though Rickster? There aren’t too many instruments to be put up, shouldn’t you be hurrying home to the girlfriend?” Pete looked at him for a moment before smirking. “Or boyfriend?” 

Patrick gaped, the addition catching him off guard. “I-I.. I’m um.. I’m single.” He finally managed to get out. How the fuck people managed normal conversations with hot people was beyond him. 

Pete’s lazy grin seemed to get wider. “Hey, me too.” 

His brown eyes remained on Patrick for a moment, making the other man fidget, before he finally spoke up. 

“Y’know, I can help you finish up here if you want, and then maybe we could go grab a beer or something? If you want.” 

Patrick blinked, surprised. “S-sure yeah that.. That sounds great, t-thanks!” 

Pete’s megawatt grin returned and he nodded, picking up one of the heavy instrument cases off of the floor, putting it where Patrick told him. 

They worked comfortably for a moment, not talking much besides Patrick telling him where things should go, until suddenly there was nothing left to do. 

Pete clapped his hands together, smiling at Patrick. There was a fresh glean of sweat on his skin, and it took all of Patrick’s willpower not to stare. He was determined to keep some of his dignity. 

“I’ll go get changed, and meet you in the parking lot?” Patrick nodded, receiving one last grin before Pete jogged off in the direction of the gym. Patrick returned to his office, shedding his uniform quickly to change back into his jeans and t-shirt, denim jacket on over that. With his hat pressed firmly onto his head, Patrick locked up and made his way over to the parking lot. 

Pete was already there, leaning against a slightly beat up red car. He was in a leather jacket (’of course he was’) and what were presumably black skinny jeans. Unless they were girls’ jeans, which Patrick didn’t think on too long, because picturing Pete shopping in the women’s section was a train of thought he wasn’t quite ready for. 

“Hey Tricky! Aw, you look cute in denim.” Patrick glared, making Pete’s grin bigger. 

“I’m not cute.”

The gym teacher put up his hands, still smiling. 

“So, do you live close to the school?” Patrick nodded. 

“Cool. I’ll follow you home then, and we can take my car?” 

Patrick shrugged and climbed into his own vehicle. He let out a sigh of relief as soon as Pete was in his car, able to think through things now that he wasn’t staring at the absolutely delicious gym coach. 

This.. this was not something he’d ever imagine doing. Ever. Pete was gorgeous, sure, but there was no way in hell that guy was gay. 

‘But the jeans..’

Okay, so maybe Pete was gay, or bi, or whatever. But it was impossible that he was hitting on Patrick. This was friendly drinks between coworkers, and nothing more.


	2. It's Not A Date If We Say No Homo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This totally isn't a date. Nope. Pete Wentz, the really attractive highschool coach with a weird love for Metallica and soccer, was not in to him at all. Noooppee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did this instead of my work for college whoop

Patrick believed that up until he was climbing into Pete’s car. It felt different then; Pete leaned over and opened the door for him, a lazy grin stretching across his handsome face. The inside was warm and smelled faintly of pizza, and there was a little stack of cassette tapes and CDs in the back seat, beside a stack of notebooks. Pete waited until Patrick’s seatbelt was on to start driving. 

“Okay, you can pick a song, but if your music taste sucks I’m judging you.” Pete said cheerfully, never looking away from the road. Smirking, Patrick pulled the box of music into his lip and dug through it. There were at least 6 Metallica CDs, as well as 3 Jay Z ones. All in all, not a bad range of music. Patrick picked the Kanye CD, surprised that it was also one of his favorites. 

Pete’s blinding grin returned as soon as the first track started playing. Patrick narrowed his eyes. “I love Kanye, bite me.” Pete glanced at him, wagging his eyebrows, making Patrick roll his eyes. 

“I’ll warn you, though, I have very strong opinions on music.” Pete smiled, stopping at a light and looked over at him. 

“What exactly would those be? C’mon man don’t be all mysterious, I already like you.” 

Patrick floundered for a moment, blinking as Pete turned back to the wheel. He launched into a 15 minute rant about Bowie, carefully watching Pete’s expression. 

The other man never did anything but smile, laughing occasionally and agreeing with him. Patrick had just finished when Pete pulled over beside a little bar. It seemed nice enough, nothing too skeevy, but Patrick was still apprehensive as he stepped out. 

His fears were washed away as soon as they stepped into the bar. It wasn’t too full, thankfully, and they slid into a booth near the back. A girl in her 20s approached the table, greeting Pete with a knowing smile. His dazzling grin shouldn’t have made Patrick’s stomach hurt, but it did. Not that he’d ever admit it. 

They ordered two beers, and Pete’s attention returned to him. “Okay, I know this is a bar, but they make pizza here too, and you have to fuckin try it man. I didn’t think it’d be all that good, but it’s amazing, I promise.” Pete seemed so excited, leaning forward on the table top. 

Shaking his head, Patrick agreed to at least try the pizza, causing Pete to whoop a little too loudly. Patrick blushed, shrinking a little to hide his embarrassment. 

The stupid smile never left Pete’s face as he watched Patrick, making the band director's discomfort rise.

Hoping to take some attention away from himself, Patrick cleared his throat. "So uh.. No offence, but you don't exactly seem like a football kind of guy?" 

Pete let out a full body laugh, his shoulders shaking and eyes closing, before shaking his head. "Yeah no, I don't really like football. I always played soccer; had a scholarship for college, and it never really left y'know?" 

Patrick tilted his head. "You didn't want to go pro?" 

Pete's smile dimmed a bit, a bit rueful as he looked down at the tabletop. "I got hurt senior year. Not enough that I couldn't play, just.. Can't play professionally." He shrugged, brown eyes looking back up at Patrick. Who, for the record, felt like an ass. Pete shouldn't ever stop smiling, Patrick decided. He was going to do all that he could to keep him smiling. 

Tentatively he placed his hand on top of Pete's, squeezing. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, a little smug at the shocked expression on Pete's face. "If it means anything.. I think you do pretty well as a football coach?" 

Pete snorted, shaking his head, blinding smile back on his face. Patrick felt giddy, knowing he'd made him feel better. 

"I'm gonna coach baseball when the season starts too. Never was good at basketball, being tiny and all." Patrick rolled his eyes at this, shaking his head. As much as he didn't want to, Patrick pulled his hand away, leaning against it as he looked up at Pete. 

"So.. I wanted to say thank you." Pete tilted his head, confused. "You were like, the only person at work to actually talk to me, other than asking about lesson plans or something. It's.. Really nice. So.. Thanks Pete." 

The blond smiled and shrugged, looking down at the table again. "S'nothing Trick. Not every day we get cute new faculty members anyway." 

Patrick flushed, finding it hard to breathe for a moment. When he regained his composure Pete was staring at him again, a knowing smirk on his face. 

The waitress took that moment to return, and Patrick thanked every god there might be that she did. She sat their beers down, smiling at them both before asking if they'd like to order anything else. 

As she spoke, she glanced at Pete, voice lilting to imply something else. Heat pooled in Patrick's stomach, a jealous burn that he shouldn't be feeling. Pete didn't seem to notice at all, however, turning to Patrick to raise his eyebrows hopefully. 

Rolling his eyes, Patrick looked up at the girl, quietly ordering the pizza Pete liked. She nodded, staying professional despite clearly not wanting to talk to him. "Coming right up!" She said cheerfully, eyes lingering on Pete for a moment longer before turning away. Patrick scowled at her retreating figure before turning back to Pete. 

Pete, who's head was in his hands, a knowing smirk and mischievous glint in his eyes. "You're jealous." He sounded smug about it, making Patrick flush and glare at the table. 

"Why would I be jealous?" Pete's smile grew, but he shook his head, sitting up to take a long sip of his beer. Patrick did the same, grateful for the distraction. With a satisfied sigh, Pete put down his drink, leaning forward on the table to look at Patrick. 

"Alright Tricky, I gotta know.." Patrick waited, looking back at him expectantly,"What's up with the mutton chops man?" 

Patrick barked out a surprised laugh, blushing slightly at the gleeful smile on Pete's face. Shaking his head, Patrick replied. "I'm not trying to be Wolverine, if that's what you're wondering. I just think they look good." 

"You'd look good in anything honestly. Or nothing. Whatever you prefer, Rickster." winking, Pete smiled at Patrick for a moment before continuing. "Really, though, I can't see you looking bad in anything. Even a fedora." 

Patrick rolled his eyes. "And what about you, Mr.Way-Too-Fit-For-Thirty? Has there ever been anything that looks bad on you?" 

"I had an eyeliner phase." He said solemnly, making Patrick burst into a fit of giggles. 

You're fucking joking!" 

"No way man! Here, look." Pete pulled out his phone, quickly moving around the table so that he was squished into Patrick's booth. Blushing, Patrick leaned over, watching as Pete scrolled through his pictures before finally clicking an album. He slid the phone over to Patrick without a word. 

They were pictures from years ago, probably when Pete was still in highschool or college. He was on a stage with several other nameless people, holding a bass and screaming into a mic. With eyeliner smudged across his lids. Patrick swiped, mouth falling open in shock at how _good_ some of the pictures looked. That eyeliner phase really, desperately needed to make a come back. Or not, depending on how long anyone wanted Patrick to live. Either way. 

"Holy shit," was all Patrick could manage as he slid the phone back to Pete. He nodded, smiling as he put his phone back into the pockets of his jeans. 

"I know, it was terrible. Like, how I was even let out of the house I don't know." 

Patrick shook his head, staring at Pete. "No, like.. Holy shit that.. Um.. You were kinda hot with make-up did you know that?" 

Pete looked shocked for a moment, gaping at Patrick before smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. 

Patrick could swear there was pink tinging Pete's cheeks as he spoke, "Awww Pattycakes, you think I'm hot? Smexy even?" 

Patrick rolled his eyes, mock punching the gym teacher's (way too muscular) arm. He took a bite out of his pizza, ignoring Pete's comment.

Pete never moved back to his side of the booth. Instead he got more comfortable, an arm on the seat behind Patrick and his legs on the other seat, talking with his mouth full of food, and laughing loudly very often. As embarrassing as he was, Patrick really was charmed. Pete was cute, and seemed really caring and thoughtful about things. He explained several of his tattoos to Patrick, who was mostly surprised the school let him work with that much ink. 

"You should see my buddy Andy. He works in a gym uptown, dude is fucking covered in tats. But he's, like, a human golden retriever. And a vegan. I love that guy," 

Time passed too quickly, though. At some point both men noticed that it was nearing 11pm, and as much fun as Patrick was having, he really needed to sleep. 

Pete seemed to pick up on his thoughts. He cleared his throat, smiling shyly up at Patrick. "I had a lot of fun y'know. For a dork you're really fun to hang out with." 

"Thanks, I'm flattered," he responded dryly, unable to keep the smile off his face. Pete grinned, but sat up, stretching. 

"C'mon, I'll drop you off at your place." Pete stood, throwing cash on the table despite Patrick's protests to pay half. Patrick threw in a tip anyway, despite his dislike for their server. Even if he was a bit jealous, the service industry was rough, and he remembered how broke he was when he was waiting tables. 

The air was chilly when they stepped outside, and Patrick pulled his jacket tightly around himself until he got into Pete's car. He cranked the heater up before pulling away, humming something off-key. The ride was mostly quiet, Patrick enjoying the comfortable silence. He was almost sad when Pete pulled up beside his apartment. 

"So, I'll see you Monday?" Pete smiled and nodded. "You bet your ass Rickster." 

Patrick shook his head and laughed, smiling up at Pete. Nervously, he grabbed a sharpie out of the center console and pulled Pete's arm into his lap. _'Fuck it'_ was his only thought as he scribbled down his number. Pete was nice, and cute, and funny, and if nothing else they could be good friends, right? 

Pete seemed elated as he pulled his arm away, smiling down at the numbers before glancing back up at Patrick, who was bright red by now. 

"Thanks for tonight Pete, really. T-text me?" 

Pete smiled again, waving as Patrick stepped out of the car. 

" You bet your sweet _ass_ I will Rickster. Night!" 

Patrick was smiling until his head hit the pillow, and he fell asleep fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the positive feedback. i didn't expect that, especially that fast. it means a lot, so sincerely, thanks. I'll update this as often as i can but :/ college + highschool is rough. thank you again, and hmu on tumblr if you have any requests/questions - xoxo ghost


End file.
